
The offending piston (1 of 3) is to your left. It is the unfortunate victim of old iron and ether addiction. You may remember a few months back I blogged about the new tractor I picked up. I noted that it seemed like the compression was pretty bad and that I would be overhauling it in the winter. Well, the compression got worse in a hurry.
This 1960s era diesel tractor had a unique starting system for cold weather. Instead of glow-plugs, it had a little electric element near the intake manifold that would get extremely hot and ignite sprayed diesel, giving the engine enough heat to start. At some point in it's life, this system stopped working, and the previous owners turned to ether. This stuff will start a diesel engine, but it has such a high combustion temperature and energy density that it can actually break the rings on your piston. As you can see from the left, it can break right through the piston, too.
So, I've been working on the tractor for about a month now, slowly disassembling it when I had time. When I finally unearthed the pistons, all three had broken rings and two looked like the one in the picture. I ordered the replacement parts from the UK, and patiently waited....except, that I'm not patient.
That's what this post is about--my lack of patience, because it gets me into trouble over and over again. I'm using the tractor rebuild as an example because it's fresh on my mind and causing me all sorts of consternation at the moment. I'm guessing some of you have felt the way that I'm about to describe before as well--perhaps not to this extreme though.
When I get to fixing things, I get a little obsessed. I really like fixing things. So much, in fact, that I start to lose my sense of good judgment. For instance, after the tractor parts finally came (after getting stuck in customs for a few days!), I was primed and ready to get to rebuilding. I got all new cylinder liners, and I knew they would need to be pressed in and then bored to the correct diameter--I knew this mind you. Except, when I opened that box and saw all those shining parts, I started to think: I bet I can save some money and press these in myself. Plus, then I don't have to wait for the machine shop! So, I went up to Harbor Freight in Bellingham to get a press and an engine stand--except they didn't have the stand I needed in stock and I got frustrated and decided to not get the press either. I went back home, and feeling frustrated, I decided to try pounding them out. Taking a hammer to an engine is never a good idea--I know this, mind you, but something came over me and I started to hammer out the liners with a screwdriver. After a few blows, the liner cracked. Luckily (one of the few luckily's in this story), I was able to chip out the liner instead of being 100% screwed. At this point, I realized I was in over my head, but I didn't want to let the machine shop guy know that (this is the second part of my problem, I start to make bad decisions, but am too ashamed to admit them, thus making the problem even worse). I chipped out the other two liners.
I should have stopped there, but I was too far gone. I decided that I was going to pound in the new cylinder liners. I actually got the first one in, but on the second one, I hit it at an angle, and --"crack"--. Fuming and frustrated, I pounded it back out and ordered a new one from the UK--which required $50 shipping for a $20 part.
I actually took it to a proper machine shop after the new part came in, and I was happy with the work and it was all fine and good. Sure, it cost me $450 to get all the work done, but I didn't have the equipment. The second, more proximate problem, is that after I got the parts back from the machine shop, my excitement level started to rise again and I was ready to start assembling---except that I discovered that the new bushings for the connecting rod small end bush needed to be pressed out and in. I made the same bad decision all over again, and cut out the old bush and hammered in the new one--only to find that the bushings needed to be honed to size to match the piston pin. At this point, a made a series of comedic errors. First, I tried to sand down the bush myself--that didn't work for a whole bag of reasons. Now, I only had 2 good bushings. I decided to bite the bullet and order a new one, with the plan to take it back to the machine shop--except I got it from a local supplier, realized they were only $5 each, and decided to order three on the "chance" that they were already finished to size.
Last Friday, a full week after ordering it, the parts finally came UPS. I went back into my trance like state, excited and hopeful that the new bushings would fit. I tested one on the crankpin, and it was definitely thinner the other ones--it must be the right size. I pounded it in, got the piston out, put the pin in, and....it wouldn't fit. It still needed to be honed. Dejected, I finally gave in. I still had 4 good bushings and decided I would take it to the machine shop the next day. Except. I got frustrated again, but something completely unrelated, and decided to stop at the local auto parts store on a whim that they had the tool I needed to finish it myself. I found a brake cylinder hone, which is a set of three stones that can be plugged into a drill and used to hone to finish a small diameter brake cylinder. I new that this wasn't really the best tool for the job, and that I should finish my quest to make it to the machine shop, but I got that glimmer of hope that I could save some money and finish it myself. I bought the hone. It didn't work. I ruined two more bushings trying to make it work. I just ordered another bushing and will have to wait a week. I'm writing this blog, in part because I want to vent my frustration with myself, and in part to have a written contract that i won't make this same mistake again. Engine parts need to be precision machined to very tight tolerances--something the home mechanic just can't do. I know ALL of this, yet I enter these weird states were I make bad decision after bad decision.
Sometimes this mentality works out okay. It can be a bit of a "git er done" ethos. The hard part for me is knowing, in the moment, when I need to shut off that little voice in my head that says I can git it done myself, prepare myself to wait, and ask for help.
This 1960s era diesel tractor had a unique starting system for cold weather. Instead of glow-plugs, it had a little electric element near the intake manifold that would get extremely hot and ignite sprayed diesel, giving the engine enough heat to start. At some point in it's life, this system stopped working, and the previous owners turned to ether. This stuff will start a diesel engine, but it has such a high combustion temperature and energy density that it can actually break the rings on your piston. As you can see from the left, it can break right through the piston, too.
So, I've been working on the tractor for about a month now, slowly disassembling it when I had time. When I finally unearthed the pistons, all three had broken rings and two looked like the one in the picture. I ordered the replacement parts from the UK, and patiently waited....except, that I'm not patient.
That's what this post is about--my lack of patience, because it gets me into trouble over and over again. I'm using the tractor rebuild as an example because it's fresh on my mind and causing me all sorts of consternation at the moment. I'm guessing some of you have felt the way that I'm about to describe before as well--perhaps not to this extreme though.
When I get to fixing things, I get a little obsessed. I really like fixing things. So much, in fact, that I start to lose my sense of good judgment. For instance, after the tractor parts finally came (after getting stuck in customs for a few days!), I was primed and ready to get to rebuilding. I got all new cylinder liners, and I knew they would need to be pressed in and then bored to the correct diameter--I knew this mind you. Except, when I opened that box and saw all those shining parts, I started to think: I bet I can save some money and press these in myself. Plus, then I don't have to wait for the machine shop! So, I went up to Harbor Freight in Bellingham to get a press and an engine stand--except they didn't have the stand I needed in stock and I got frustrated and decided to not get the press either. I went back home, and feeling frustrated, I decided to try pounding them out. Taking a hammer to an engine is never a good idea--I know this, mind you, but something came over me and I started to hammer out the liners with a screwdriver. After a few blows, the liner cracked. Luckily (one of the few luckily's in this story), I was able to chip out the liner instead of being 100% screwed. At this point, I realized I was in over my head, but I didn't want to let the machine shop guy know that (this is the second part of my problem, I start to make bad decisions, but am too ashamed to admit them, thus making the problem even worse). I chipped out the other two liners.
I should have stopped there, but I was too far gone. I decided that I was going to pound in the new cylinder liners. I actually got the first one in, but on the second one, I hit it at an angle, and --"crack"--. Fuming and frustrated, I pounded it back out and ordered a new one from the UK--which required $50 shipping for a $20 part.
I actually took it to a proper machine shop after the new part came in, and I was happy with the work and it was all fine and good. Sure, it cost me $450 to get all the work done, but I didn't have the equipment. The second, more proximate problem, is that after I got the parts back from the machine shop, my excitement level started to rise again and I was ready to start assembling---except that I discovered that the new bushings for the connecting rod small end bush needed to be pressed out and in. I made the same bad decision all over again, and cut out the old bush and hammered in the new one--only to find that the bushings needed to be honed to size to match the piston pin. At this point, a made a series of comedic errors. First, I tried to sand down the bush myself--that didn't work for a whole bag of reasons. Now, I only had 2 good bushings. I decided to bite the bullet and order a new one, with the plan to take it back to the machine shop--except I got it from a local supplier, realized they were only $5 each, and decided to order three on the "chance" that they were already finished to size.
Last Friday, a full week after ordering it, the parts finally came UPS. I went back into my trance like state, excited and hopeful that the new bushings would fit. I tested one on the crankpin, and it was definitely thinner the other ones--it must be the right size. I pounded it in, got the piston out, put the pin in, and....it wouldn't fit. It still needed to be honed. Dejected, I finally gave in. I still had 4 good bushings and decided I would take it to the machine shop the next day. Except. I got frustrated again, but something completely unrelated, and decided to stop at the local auto parts store on a whim that they had the tool I needed to finish it myself. I found a brake cylinder hone, which is a set of three stones that can be plugged into a drill and used to hone to finish a small diameter brake cylinder. I new that this wasn't really the best tool for the job, and that I should finish my quest to make it to the machine shop, but I got that glimmer of hope that I could save some money and finish it myself. I bought the hone. It didn't work. I ruined two more bushings trying to make it work. I just ordered another bushing and will have to wait a week. I'm writing this blog, in part because I want to vent my frustration with myself, and in part to have a written contract that i won't make this same mistake again. Engine parts need to be precision machined to very tight tolerances--something the home mechanic just can't do. I know ALL of this, yet I enter these weird states were I make bad decision after bad decision.
Sometimes this mentality works out okay. It can be a bit of a "git er done" ethos. The hard part for me is knowing, in the moment, when I need to shut off that little voice in my head that says I can git it done myself, prepare myself to wait, and ask for help.